Between the Rivers
by Luckynumber28
Summary: Young Haleth is suddenly the last of her house and the standing leader of her people after a brutal victory against an orc horde of Morgoth. However, she finds herself having to defend her place as Chief of the Haladin while maintaining a complicated relationship with a brooding Elvish benefactor. (Haleth/Caranthir)
1. A Hard Won Victory

The ground trembled under their feet.

Bracing herself, Haleth tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword and shot a look to her comrade, Hagar. The older man, who had been her father's close friend, kept his dark, wide gaze on the misty horizon. Even the orcs paused in their onslaught. As the clear sound of approaching trumpets rang out through the grey dawn, their foul enemy shrunk back slightly in their attack.

Haleth brought the blade of her battle hatchet, black with the blood of many foes, hard into the skull of a distracted orc. The bone cracked, the sound stirring the creature's fellow insurgents from the interruption. The trumpet sounded again and a cry went up from the bloodied remnants of her people. Haleth jerked the axe from the twitching corpse of the orc. She swung around the short sword in her other hand as a company on horses with blades shining in the pale morning light materialized out of the mist. Their enemy let out blood chilling cries as they were mowed down by the Elvish host. Arrows with fine feathers quivering in the wind found their way to jugular veins and eye sockets. The leader of the horde, an elf who sat tall in the saddle of a black steed, beheaded one of the vermin in one clean stroke. His gleaming helm hid most of his face, keeping Haleth from recognizing him.

"Haladin!" Haleth let out a raw scream at the top of her burning lungs.

Holding her sword in the air, she rushed headlong into the remaining horde of Morgoth and her people followed. After an hour, the remaining members of the orc company had either been cut down or sent screaming into the mist as it burned away. The sun was piercing through the heavy cloud cover that had laid over them like the death they thought had been certain for days.

"We have been saved." Hagar breathed coming up alongside Haleth and clapping a hand firmly on her armored shoulder, "We will live. Our people will live."

"I must thank them." She murmured, her breath turning to plumes of smoke in the damp air.

"Thank ye self, girl." Hagar commented, "Tis you who had kept us hoping and living since your father and brother-"

"But without them, we would all be dead." Haleth cut him off, "I did no more than any other in my position."

Coming out from under the old soldier's well-meant grasp, Haleth approached the tall elf with the heavy helm.

"My lord," Haleth spoke in near perfect Sindarin. She bowed slightly as the stallion nervously danced on the bloodied ground, "My people and I are indebted to you. We most certainly would have perished if not for your aid."

"Where is your leader?" He demanded brusquely, spurring the horse to the side, "I desire to speak with him."

Haleth paused but only for a moment, "I am the leader of the Haladin now, my Lord."

The elf narrowed his eyes and studied her sharply through the silver helm, "You?"

Haleth held herself to her full height, "My father was our leader but he and my brother were both slain seven days ago. I have taken on the responsibility of leading my people and will continue to do so as long as they will have me."

She jutted out her chin, refusing to feel cowed under the scrutiny of the Elf Lord before her. Though her body felt it might give at any moment, she would hold her head high as the daughter of the honorable Haldad.

The elf was silent as he dismounted, grasping the reins of his horse in his gloved hand. With the other, he removed the helmet from his head, dark hair pulled back harshly in a tight braid down his back. In the dim light, Haleth studied the sharp angles of his jawline and high cheekbones. The elf had distinctly heavy dark brows, under which almond shaped eyes, almost black in color, studied her with a mixture of curiosity and unguarded disdain.

"My host has brought provisions for your men." He stated plainly, his gaze traveling up and down her worn form.

"We are grateful but there are starving women and children behind us at the edge of the stockade. Our young ones must eat first." Haleth replied.

The elf smirked, "I should have assumed the first concern of a female leader would be the young."

He jerked his head towards a nearby elf and barked out a command in a dialect of the Eldar with which she was not familiar. The man nodded and sped towards the supply carts being led towards them. Haleth shifted, unsure of how to continue such a stilted conversation. Her head swam with hunger and fatigue. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept more than an hour's time.

"After you have eaten and rested, my lady," He said these last words with a twinge of irony that Haleth chose to ignore, "I wish to speak with you again of other matters."

He turned towards his horse once more, swinging one long leg over the side of the heaving animal with ease.

"Yes, my Lord." She answered, realizing she did not know who he was, "May I have your name?"

"I am Caranthir of the house of Feanor." He answered curtly, before riding away without asking her own name.

Haleth was too exhausted to be bothered by the slight. They were alive, for the moment at least. That was all that mattered.

* * *

**Author's Note: As far as I am concerned, Haleth is a super hero and deserves to be written about as such. She is TOTALLY one of my favorites in "The Silmarillion" even if she only appears for a split second. I cannot tell you how mad I get when I hear someone say that Tolkien was anti-feminist. HELLOO? Really? Really now. Come on.**


	2. The Aftermath

For Haleth was a woman of great heart and strength.  
~ Of the Coming of Men into the West ~

"_Father!" She screamed._

_Haldad swung his mighty battle ax around his head, his fire bright hair catching the last of the sun's rays. The orcs had attacked them early in the evening, right before the shadows descended. The daylight was poisonous to their dark hides, leaving the Haladin with uneasy nights behind their makeshift stockade. The horde of Morgoth would come in waves into the wee hours of the morning, the dismal light of dawn finding bodies of men hewn against the fresh wood of their crude shelter._

_Haldad gnashed his teeth, his red beard blackened with the blood of the vermin. The blue war paint underneath his fierce green eyes smeared down his cheeks. Haleth brought her short sword down hard on the forearm of her foe, hacking it to the bone and sending the creature writhing in pain to the damp earth. She looked back towards the east where Haldad stood, utterly surrounded._

"_Haldor!" She turned towards her twin where he wielded the jagged blades of his two swords. __Haldor turned towards his sister, his eyes wide as he immediately noticed their father's predicament. _

_Haleth was distracted by another larger orc lumbering towards her, his self-mutilated face pinned with nails and rings piercing his leathery skin. He gave her what looked to be a smirk with rotting teeth, bringing his scimitar high over his head. Instinctively, Haleth ducked between his massive legs, rolling over the gory ground to the other side. Before the beast could turn, she sunk the blade of her short sword in the exposed area of his crude armor at the dip of his shoulder blades. The creature gave a sickening wheeze as his lungs burst. The orc fell to the ground, gasping as blood bubbled from its thin, white lips._

_Haleth looked back towards the east. Haldad was embattled against the largest of his foe. Haldor was still a few paces off from coming to his aid. _

"_Father!" Haleth screamed again as an arrow flew from nearby and sunk into Haldad's thick neck._

"Father!"

"Haleth, wake!"

Haleth sat up fast from her sleeping mat in the tent she had once shared with her family. With bleary eyes, she glared into the face of Hagar who knelt beside her, his wrinkled face riddled with concern. She pushed her unruly black curls from her face and looked down to see she had clutched a short knife in her sleep. She let the blade fall to the ground in a daze.

"Twas just a dream, lass." Hagar clamped a steady hand on her shoulder, "You were only dreaming."

"I wish it was only a dream." She mumbled, rubbing a calloused hand over her face, "How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple hours. Lay back down, you need more rest."

"I need to see to my people."

"They have been seen to, the elves have fed them."

"Yes, but they need to see me." Haleth answered, standing wearily from her mat without a look to her friend, "I need to be with them now."

"They need you healthy and hale."

"I will be fine, Hagar." Haleth answered firmly, throwing a vest of bear fur over her yellowed white shirt. She tucked the shirt tails into her loose, brown pants and began to search for her worn boots, "Truthfully, I have slept enough."

Hagar stood and walked over to the entrance of the tent, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Hagar had been her father's first cousin and closest friend. Now he was her only adviser as she stood as leader of her people. It was a role she had never expected she would need to play, even as her father had come to be the first leader the Haladin had ever known. She was thankful to have him at her side.

Haleth paused beside him before leaving the tent and looked up into his face. She offered him a weary smile and laid a hand on his arm. The man shook his head, his lips pursed in concern. He narrowed his eyebrows.

"I worry for you, lass." He admitted, "The graves of your father and brother are still fresh and you haven't slept in days."

Haleth nodded, "I have a greater responsibility than merely to myself. I must see to what my father began. We cannot fade into the night as the enemy desires, we must live to see a better day. A day Haldad foresaw."

Hagar's jaw dropped slightly as though he would speak and his eyes clouded over in thought. However, he seemed to change his mind, bringing his mouth into a tight line.

"As you wish, my lady."

The honorable title coming from the man who had been a second father to her since birth stunned Haleth for a moment. She merely nodded in return and ducked out into the bright, afternoon light.

As she emerged into the short courtyard of their ruined stockade, Haleth glanced across the mass of weary, bloodied men and their gaunt women and children. She caught Rochma's eye as he glanced up from sharpening one of his lethal throwing knives with a flint. His expression hardened, the fierce glow of mid-afternoon catching the red in his hair like veins of gold in mountain rock. He lifted an eyebrow in challenge.

Haleth stiffened her spine and met the provocative glance of her childhood friend. He would not intimidate her that easily. With a curt, careless nod, that she knew would irk him with its arrogance, she made her way towards the rough shelter built to house the wounded towards the west.

_A woman to lead us would surely mean our doom, _Rochma's words following the death of her brother and father echoed in her mind, making her blood run hot with their presumption, _Haleth is a girl of sixteen. She is not fit to lead us any more than my little sister sucking on her shirt sleeve and weeping at every sound in the night._

Haleth's boots sunk into the mud mixed with rainwater and blood outside the shelter overflowing with wounded bodies. She knelt beside a young man not two years younger than her where he sat in the filth by the splintered door frame. A dirty rag was pulled tightly at an angle across his young face, covering what she assumed remained of his left eye. His parched lips parted as he gazed into her face.

"Shela!" Haleth yelled to a young girl helping a limping warrior, "Do you have a water skin on you?"

The wide eyed girl nodded and tossed Haleth what remained of her water skin. Haleth caught it with one hand and tipped the boy's chin back.

"You fought well, Mairen." She commented firmly as she poured the water into his open mouth, droplets rolling over the downy fuzz of his cheeks. His youth was heartbreaking, "You brought honor to your house."

"Thank you, my lady." He murmured wearily as Haleth dabbed the skin on his chin with her sleeve.

"Where is your mother?"

Mairen did not meet her gaze. His dark blue eyes shadowed by sleeplessness grew distant. Haleth understood his silence enough. Mairen's mother had always been a weak hearted woman. They would probably find her bloated body floating in the flotsam of the river where she had thrown herself in out of despair.

"Do not fear," She said firmly, "We will see to your needs, brave warrior."

"My lady?" A strong voice came from behind her.

Haleth looked up in the strong sunlight to see an elf behind her. He looked strikingly clean and unaffected by the chaos and blood of the aftermath around them.

"My Lord Caranthir requests your presence. May I escort you?" He offered.

The request sounded more like a command to Haleth. However, she owed the Elvish Lord the lives of all in the stockade. She nodded and turned towards Mairen once more, squeezing his thin shoulder firmly.

"Bless you, lady." Mairen murmured, attempting a tragically brave smile.

Haleth fought down the lump in her throat, "You as well, Mairen."

She stood to her feet and stood tall before the elf. He eyed her indifferently.

"Take me to your Lord then." She replied, brushing her hands off on her shirt before following him out of the stockade.


	3. An Arrogance of Spirit

Caranthir swirled the cup of dark, bitter wine in his large hand. He stood studying one of the maps that had been made of the area, judging exactly how the orcish horde had made their way so close to the borders of his land.

He gripped the cup as a surge of anger rushed through his head. He wished they had arrived sooner so he could have cut down more of the creatures. Throwing his head back, he finished the strong drink in one draw. The wine heated his blood and quelled the anger festering in his stomach. At least they had been driven back for now.

The warmth drained from his face as his emotions evened. He would need to seem collected before the leader of the rag tag band of humans as his pride demanded.

_Leader. _He thought, scoffing to himself. _A poor excuse for one. Just like the Edain to be led by a girl, no matter how impressive she is with a hatchet._

However, he had to admit that he was impressed by the tenacity of the Haladin. To survive an ongoing onslaught for as long as they did was commendable. He wondered how much of that was owed to the young girl who had brazenly stood before him on the battlefield and declared herself their chieftain. Caranthir glanced up as his Sindarin hand entered the tent and stood silently waiting for him to speak.

"Did you bring the Edain girl?"

"Yes, my Lord." He replied, "She is waiting outside."

"Fine then," Caranthir picked up the copper canter of wine and refilled his cup for himself, "Send her in."

The elf nodded and disappeared through the fine cloth of the tent door. Caranthir heard her enter but did not look up from the map as she did.

"My Lord, Haleth daughter of Haldad at your service." She spoke, her voice not unlovely to his ears.

Caranthir did not glance in her direction but took a draw from his cup, "So Haleth is your name?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"I regret I did not remember to ask when we met this morning. You must forgive my rudeness." He answered carelessly.

The girl paused at his thinly veiled response. Caranthir was not about to mask what he thought of a presumptive child taking lead of her people.

"Of course, my Lord." Came her curt response.

Caranthir nearly smirked at the edge to her voice. He could almost envision her gritting her teeth. He glanced up to see her standing at attention, her hands folded behind her back and her gaze direct on his face. He was struck by how different she looked out of her battle gear.

That morning her face and hair had been smeared with blood, dirt and blue war paint. Though she was short of stature, it was clear the muscles under her loose clothing were taunt and strong. Across her slightly upturned nose was a smattering of freckles that made her look even younger, though her strong jawline was set stalwartly. Caranthir paused, setting his cup down and eyeing her.

"How old are you, girl?"

A wave of protest at being called such passed over her face but she maintained her composure, "Sixteen winters, my Lord."

"Sixteen is young to take command of an entire people in your culture, is it not?"

"I do not know." Haleth responded, her clear green eyes not wavering from his face.

Caranthir nodded in contemplation, "Do the men of your people offer you their support?"

Haleth hesitated once more and opened her mouth to speak.

"They do not all pledge their sword to you, do they?" He interjected curtly, a smirk playing at his generous mouth.

Haleth's jaw dropped for a moment, "There were some who did not agree with my leading them, but the majority of our people have rallied behind me, yes. As of now, I stand as leader of the Haladin."

Caranthir rounded the table and leant back against it, crossing his arms over his chest and scrutinizing her. Haleth pursed her mouth. He noticed her berry red lower lip had been split at the corner. Other than that the girl seemed well. Clearly she held her own in battle.

"My lord," She burst, surprising him with the force of her voice, "I am grateful to you and your host for their aid but if you have nothing else to do but chit chat with me, I must be on my way. I apologize for my rudeness, but I must see to my people."

He studied her reddening face in bemused shock, though irritation at the insolence of her statement stirred in his belly. He let out a breathy half laugh, trying to maintain his calm demeanor. He couldn't let his anger get the best of him in front of this lesser being.

"Girl," He couldn't help spitting back, "I did not merely call you here to chit chat as you so deftly put it. If you knew anything of leading a people, you would know not to speak to a greater Lord as such."

Haleth stepped forward, "And you should not assume weakness of me. It displays an ignorance of character and arrogance of spirit that is disgusting to me…my Lord." She spit the title with little decorum.

Caranthir stalked forward, gritting his teeth and bringing his hands to fists at his sides. Haleth stood her ground, her eyes flashing brazenly.

"Am I so disgusting to you, child?" He responded, "I have seen the glory of the Valar and defied it alongside my father, the greatest of my kin-"

"Little good that did for your manners." She interrupted sharply.

Caranthir struggled to keep himself under control, "I believe it would be best for you if you left my presence." He spoke in a deadly low tone.

Haleth glared up at him. Not taking her eyes from him, she gave an insincere half bow and burst out through the cloth tent flap. Caranthir took the full cup of wine from the table and threw it with relish into the tent wall, the dark red liquid staining the white cloth like blood. He snorted, pacing and running a hand over his severely pulled back hair. He couldn't believe he had let a cocky little upstart like that Edain girl get the better of him.

_Arrogance of spirit? _He continued to pace as his hand entered the tent, _That creature carries herself with more arrogance than I have ever seen in any female of elf kind. And after I saved their miserable lives._

"My lord, the wine?" His man asked, used to the whims and swift moods of Caranthir.

"Yes, see to it." He commanded, "I wish to wash."

He left the tent for the nearby riverbank, trying to quell his temper.

* * *

Though his manner had deserved her reaction, Haleth later regretted losing her temper before the elf. He had been right. No matter how provoked she had felt, she needed to keep from burning any bridges with so powerful an ally. They were on his land after all, though they offered the elf no allegiance. She had before heard of the elf lord currently encamped on the field before their stockade. Caranthir was of a great house of elves, one of the most well-known of his kin. Her father would never have made such a grievous mistake as to incite his anger.

She bit her lip as she finished sharpening her short sword at the smithy. After having seen to her wounded men, she had thought it wise to calm her frazzled nerves and see to her weapons. She grimaced as she recalled her words. She needed to stop thinking of her own pride at the moment and of the starving women and children whose bread had come from the elf Lord she had insulted.

_Arrogance of spirit. _She moaned and ran a cloth down the blade. _Were you even thinking, Haleth? _

She jumped as she felt hands lay heavily on her shoulders where she sat. Haleth knew immediately to whom they belonged. They slid down the thin fabric of her shirt. She had discarded her fur as the heat of the day rose.

"Lady Haleth," A heady voice came hot by her ear as Rochma gripped her arms with thick fingers.

She roughly shook the hands of her adversary from her body and stood, not looking to him where he stood at ease.

"What do you want, Rochma?" She demanded, setting her sword on the table and looking up at him.

She wondered how she ever could have thought him handsome. He stepped forward, his long hair pulled back from his smirking face. Though she thought no better of him at that moment, she couldn't help but compare how much more handsome Caranthir was compared to the cocky youth before her.

"Just seeing to my chieftain." He said, his voice thick with sarcasm as he approached her and stood a hand's breadth away. Haleth didn't budge but glared up into his ruddy face.

"I am well, thank you." She answered firmly as he reached out and brushed the hair from her shoulder, letting his thumb graze her neck.

She grasped his fingers, the heat of anger at his insolence bursting through her veins. Pushing away his hand, she glared up at him.

"How did your talk with the elf fare?" He asked casually.

"Well enough."

"Rochma." Hagar's harsh voice came at the door of the empty smithy.

Haleth let out a relieved breath as Rochma took a step back from her. His face blanched before the superior warrior.

"I must speak with Chieftain Haleth." Hagar growled stepping forward, "You may leave."

Rochma gave her a lingering look, seething with disgust before stalking from the smithy. Haleth relaxed once he left. How she ever could have even considered marrying such a cretin was beyond her. However, that had been before the battle. Hagar entered the smithy, giving her a tired look.

"Are you well?"

"Yes," Haleth answered rolling her eyes, trying to seem casual, "He is merely aggravating."

"Rochma is nothing like his father." Hagar shook his head, "Shame, his sire was an honorable man."

Haleth recalled that Rochma's father Rochan had been killed the same day her brother and father had died.

"Is there something you needed, other than rescuing me from that-"

She couldn't think of a bad enough name to call him.

Hagar shook his head with a tentative smile, "Nothing but to speak to you of something pressing. There are rumors going about the encampment concerning Shela."

Haleth nodded, "How is she faring with the death of my brother?"

"Fine, I suppose." Hagar gave her a pointed look, "I believe you may need to speak with her."

"Of course I will." Haleth replied, feeling a pang of guilt for not checking in on her brother's betrothed, "But for now, I need some room to breathe."

"The river side on the eastern bank is clear of any sign of battle." Hagar answered, "I think that would be wise of you."


	4. Honor and Words

The sun had slipped halfway down the horizon, staining the water dark red. Upriver the water was clean of the gore that polluted the banks near the battlefield draining with the blood of man and orc. A scant breeze swept down along the river's edge. Haleth breathed deeply, the late winter chill edging the draft and causing her bare arms to erupt in gooseflesh.

The sound of weeping came on the wind.

Haleth squinted in the bright light of the setting sun, shading her eyes with a hand. There was a cloaked figure standing at the water's edge. Haleth approached quietly. Though hooded, it was obvious the individual's focus was on the swift, deep current. There was a weighty hopelessness about the scene that caused Haleth's heart to drop. She had already lost too many of her people to despair in the frigid river water.

"Wait, friend!" She called, racing forward thoughtlessly.

The figure jolted and turned in her direction. Haleth was shocked to see Shela, her brother's betrothed. She pulled her hood back, sniffing hard. The dust on her cheeks had clear runs of tears and her dark eyes were wide.

"Haleth," She choked before falling to her knees.

Haleth followed her friend into the mud, taking the girl's trembling hands in her own. They were ice cold.

"Shela, what are you doing out here?" Haleth asked, pushing the girl's blond curls from her distraught face.

Shela choked a sob, "I didn't know what else to do."

"Shela," Haleth tugged her forward into her arms, "I'm frightened too. But we need to be strong together now, for the sake of those we have lost."

"That's not just it." Shela pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve, "There is something else."

Silence fell between the girls as an early evening owl called out mournfully from the nearby sparse copse of oak. Haleth waited patiently for Shela to gather her thoughts.

"I am carrying Haldor's child." Shela looked up Haleth, her eyes swimming with tears.

Haleth felt as though she had been struck in the gut. Her dear brother, her twin in the womb, had been a conservative and honorable young man. Though he and Shela were both young, Shela being the same age, they had known since they were children that they were meant to be life mates. They had announced their betrothal in the mid-winter, before the orc threat had grown too great to be ignored. Haleth never would have thought her brother to risk such a thing as a baby on the eve of war. Still, she could not deny the spark of bittersweet pain bursting through her heart as she reached forward and laid a hand on Shela's abdomen.

"We still have a part of him, of them." She whispered, her throat thickening with tears she had yet to shed, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The shame it would bring on my family was almost too great to imagine." Shela replied, "With my father and uncle dead, my cousin is head of our house."

Haleth stiffened, heat flooding her face, "Rochma. Does he know yet?"

"I don't know." Shela choked, "But he's sure to find out soon and with the strife between your house and his, he'll demand my life to redeem the honor of our house."

Haleth nearly spit, bile rising in the back of her throat, "He will not get an honor killing. Not while I am chieftain." She stood, gripping Shela by her upper arms and bringing her to her feet, "You will stay with me, sister. As far as I am concerned, you are of my house."

"But Rochma-"

"I will deal with Rochma." She snarled almost more harshly than she meant to the trembling girl, "Do not fear, Shela. All will be well. Go get your things and adjourn to my tent."

Shela gave her a shaky half smile and nod. Though her eyes were clouded with fear, the color was coming back to her cheeks. Haleth turned and watched her rail thin figure disappear behind the hill that crested near the stockade.

She clenched her fists, digging her nails into the flesh of her scarred palms. Her father and brother had been ripped from her before their time. Haleth would sooner take the head of Rochma and impale it on a stake before letting him harm what remained of her shattered family.

* * *

Caranthir had watched the whole scene from farther upriver. After having bathed in the freezing water, he had remained in the quiet of the small grove of trees by the river. Carelessly sitting in the mud of the bank, he had closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Years of living with a raging temper had taught him how to rein in his emotions. It had mostly been to keep from bringing further embarrassment to his family by his whip like tongue and bombastic opinions. The thought of his oldest brother Maitimo's dark look of censure whenever he spoke too quickly could still make him cringe inwardly. He had only recently found it best to escape to a quiet place alone to gather his thoughts before his anger got the best of him.

However, he could not deny the raw sense of strength his anger gave him. Being one of the youngest and least talented of his family, he paled in comparison to the shining examples of his handsome and gifted brothers. His mother had doted on the twins below him who mirrored her in looks and temperament while his father had encouraged and challenged the older ones. He became lost in the middle. His temper made him special.

Caranthir grit his teeth, bringing his thoughts under control. Mulling over the perverted logistics of his family would only make him surly. The last thing he needed to indulge in was self-pity. The elf stood, refuse from the bank trailing off the back of his black tunic. Brushing the dead leaves and twigs from the fine fabric, he folded his hands behind his back and paced for a moment.

_Ignorance of character … arrogance of spirit … _

Caranthir scoffed at the echo of the woman-child's words. What did she know of arrogance? She had not seen the heat of rebellion against divinity; the fool's errand that had become that damnable oath he had taken so quickly with his father and brothers. Perhaps he was arrogant, but he had the right to it. A little Edain girl, who only happened to be the surviving heir of her leader father, had no reason to bear the pride she wore like a banner. Why was he letting her words dig into him?

Snarling, he started down the river bank toward his encampment. He need a good distraction and another canter of wine. As he came around the corner out of the sparse tree cover, he paused. There on the bank were two figures. He studied them, realizing they were both girls. His stomach tightened as he saw that one of them was Haleth daughter of Haldad. However, she did not wear that mask of fierce pride and self-importance. There was a vulnerability and tenderness to her as she seemed to be comforting the other girl. Caranthir suddenly recognized a duality in the girl's nature that intrigued him. Perhaps there was more potential for a leader in her than he had originally thought.

* * *

Haleth sensed another presence. She glanced over her shoulder to see who had disrupted her solitude where she sat, watching the sun's rays bloom purple gold across the white horizon. It took her a moment to realize who it was approaching her.

She stood abruptly, shaken by the sight of the elf lord she had berated that afternoon. He walked slowly towards her, his eyes to the ground. He stopped a few feet off. As he glanced up, she was stunned by how different he looked.

He had let his long hair out of the constricting braid and washed it. Though half dried, the strands were coarse and thick. With the unruly dark waves laying on his broad shoulders, she could have almost mistook him for a human. In his natural state, Caranthir was rougher around the edges than he seemed. It would have looked perfectly natural for him to have dark scruff shading his harsh jawline, though she knew most elves could not grow beards like men of the Edain.

"Well met, Lady Haleth." He spoke, his dark voice jolting her from her musings.

"My Lord." She replied stiffly with an obligatory nod.

"I was just thinking of the words you spoke to me this afternoon." He replied, carelessly turning his eyes on the golden river water.

Haleth tried not to cringe, "My Lord, I was out of turn to speak as such to a superior. Please forgive my youth and ignorance for voicing my mind too roughly."

"And yet, you still believe what you spoke, am I right?" He approached closer. Haleth was surprised to see a glint of humor in his dark eyes.

Haleth's lips parted for a moment before shutting tightly. Caranthir's mouth twitched. She almost thought he was going to grin. However, the familiar air of stoic conceit came over his face.

"I would not want you to take back your words." He said, standing at arm's length before her, "You meant them, you have the right to them, no matter what any other may say."

"However, my father told us that a wise man listened to those around him first before speaking and then carefully measured out his words." Haleth found herself answering candidly.

Caranthir jutted out his chin and nodded, "Sage advice. Your father must have been a good leader."

Haleth pushed away the wave of grief that tried to shadow her thoughts, "He was the best."

"Fathers can tell their children things meaning the best for them. However, only you can decide the kind of person and leader you will be for your people."

Haleth blinked, realizing that Caranthir had just indicated to her position as Chieftain and not in a mocking tone. She straightened her weary posture and folded her hands behind her back as she saw him do. He gave a real smile that this, though his lips remained closed.

"Night is coming on and it will be dangerous on these shores." He stated as he walked past her towards the stockade and elf encampment, "Retire to your tent and have a good meal. I will meet you there to speak afterwards."

Haleth watched him walk away without another word or glance. Shaking off the shock of such a civil conversation with the elf, she followed after him at a jog.


	5. Arrogant Assumption

Haleth sat down cross legged at the fire built in the center of her family tent. A scant trail of smoke drifted up through the opening in the cloth ceiling. She folded her hands and rested her chin on her knuckles. Closing her weary eyes, she breathed in the smell of the damp wood that popped as flames engulfed the kindling. Her head ached horribly.

"You need to eat." Shela knelt, setting down a trencher with a thick stew and heel of bread beside her.

"The elves were very generous with us." Haleth commented lamely, looking down at the rich food, "We have not eaten like this since last summer."

Her stomach tightened at the memory of those last golden days before the threat of the enemy fell over them like a shadow. They had been living in dread for months. Though the attacking hordes had been driven back, Haleth couldn't help but wonder when the next surge would come. Pushing the thought back in her mind for now, she reached out for the bread and tore into it greedily. Shela settled down beside her, staring into the flames.

"How do you feel?"

"Better." Shela replied, "Mother did not argue when I stopped to gather my things from her tent. She knows what Rachma will do when he finds out."

Haleth blew out her breath through her nose hotly, "We'll see about that. How far along are you?"

"Only two months." Shela stretched her legs out, pulling her skirts up to her knees to catch the warmth of the fire.

"That gives us some time before you start to show." Haleth tipped her head back as she poured the remaining morsels of potato and beef into her mouth from the trencher.

"I fear it is too late for secrecy. I made the mistake of trusting another with the news. It will be around the entire stockade by morning." Shela slumped her thin shoulders, "I suppose only time will tell now. Though I do feel better knowing I have you on my side."

"Why would you ever think I wouldn't be otherwise?" Haleth asked gently turning to the other girl.

Shela tucked a strand of yellow hair behind her ear, revealing the ash and grim staining her cheeks. Though she had lost the hopelessness that had haunted her eyes earlier, Shela's pale face was gaunt and fatigued. Haleth couldn't remember the last time they had talked like this just the two of them.

"I only found out a few days ago. Haldor had just been slain." Shela's voice had little inflection as she spoke, "You had been chosen to take your father's place. The conflict between our houses was ripe, Rochma speaking against you in public even as Orcs crowded our gates. I did not know if you could protect me and I did not want to burden you." Shela turned towards Haleth, "I am sorry for not trusting you with this sooner."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Shela." Haleth shook her head, "I am merely grateful you are safe."

"My lady?"

The girls turned towards the tent flap as Hagar entered, his expression surprised.

"What is it, Hagar?"

"A guest."

Haleth pursed her lips nodding quietly, "Yes, he said he would be by this evening."

"Who?" Shela asked, looking towards Hagar as another figure followed him into the dusky air of the tent.

The individual pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing the sharp angles and smirk of the Elf Lord. Haleth sensed Shela draw back out of a mix of fear and awe. He had pulled his coarse locks back harshly once more though he no longer wore his armor. Barely acknowledging Shela or Hagar, Caranthir strode leisurely into the tent, his arrogant gaze lighting onto Haleth.

"Shela, do you mind sitting outside with Hagar for a while? He will see to you."

Shela shot Haleth a look of concern before tightening her lips and walking past the elf to the tent entrance.

"My lady?" Hagar entreated, eyeing the elf with fatherly concern.

"All is well, Hagar." Haleth answered calmly, "I will call if I need you."

Reluctantly, Hagar retreated into the late winter chill. Caranthir's smirk grew as he took his leather gloves from his hands and stalked towards where Haleth. Haleth placidly gazed up at him.

"So this is how your people live?" His deep voice rolled over her like thunder, "I half expected the livestock to be housed in here with you."

"We only bring the cows indoors during the dead of winter." Haleth answered, her face straight and voice without nuance.

Caranthir gave a short chuckle. Haleth couldn't help but be surprised as the lordly elf suddenly crouched down next to her. He stared into the fire.

"So we are to recline on the ground?"

"Yes."

Without comment, he sat down with his long legs drawn up and arms resting on his knees. Haleth couldn't help but study him. He looked so out of his element yet at ease in what she knew had to be alien surroundings for him.

"Do any of your people own proper furnishings?" The question came from him so sincere Haleth couldn't help but laugh.

"My lord, we were driven from our homes. These are temporary arrangements." Haleth replied, hoping such a thing were true.

"So you plan on settling somewhere else?"

"I am not sure." Haleth answered, "There are complications."

"The men of your people who oppose you." Caranthir nodded, seeming to read the situation quite astutely.

"It is only one, though he has garnered support from his younger brother and cousins. His father was my father's second."

"So what is his claim?"

"The obvious one." Haleth chuckled, "He is not so creative. Rochma's mother came from another people who were more barbaric in their way of thinking. Women could not lead and were viewed more as chattel than human beings."

Caranthir seemed unmoved, "Sounds like something the Edain would conjure. That is his only argument? What do your people think?"

"I have the support of the crowd." Haleth answered, "Though his theories are starting to pervert some of the other younger men."

"What have you done to gain their support?"

Haleth paused, unsure of how to answer such a question with modesty, "I encouraged them at the darkest hour and led the charges into the horde."

"Honorable qualities in a leader but now you must portray one of the most needed aspects," Caranthir turned towards her, training his intense dark glare on her, "As you spoke to me this afternoon is how you must address this Rochma. Candidly, defiantly and without the extreme swings of emotion common in your sex. He would most likely exploit such a display."

"Extreme swings of emotion in my sex?" Haleth found herself repeating heatedly, "Don't think I didn't hear you throw your cup of wine at the wall after I left you this afternoon."

"That is exactly what I mean." Caranthir jabbed a finger at her, a grin playing at his mouth, "Strength without the emotion. You must learn to harness your anger to your advantage."

"Why does my fate concern you, my Lord?" Haleth found herself demanding, "My people are not a great one. We prefer the eaves of the woods and little conversation. We are not like those who seek knowledge from the Eldar nor do we seek the Gods in the west."

Caranthir's brow creased in thought, "Perhaps, I have been wrong in my past judgments about the Edain."

"I remember my father telling me that the Elf Lord of our lands held little interest or respect for our people. Was he speaking of you?"

"Yes." Caranthir caught her gaze, his voice without emotion, "Your father spoke correctly. However, your stand against the Enemy is credible. Your supplies were scant, your men few, your leader was slain early in the battle and still, here you stand."

Haleth bit her bottom lip. The back of her neck tingled under the sharp gaze of the elf. It sounded as though he were trying to tell her that he respected her and the Haladin. The thought of earning the deference of such a great Lord of Elves was cowing, though she would never admit such a thing to Caranthir. She still couldn't give herself permission to stroke his ego.

"So what do you propose I do?" She asked, looking back at the fire.

The question hung in the air. However, before Caranthir could answer, there came a commotion outside the tent. Shouts rose in the air. Haleth and Caranthir stood and bounded towards the door of the tent. Caranthir remained in the shadows, pulling his hood over his head to hide his identity from the growing crowd. Haleth felt Caranthir lay a steadying, secretive hand on the middle of her back as she saw Rochma circling Hagar where he stood protectively before Shela.

"So that is our upstart; the cocky brute with the knife?" Caranthir whispered roughly into her hair, "Remember, harness your anger."

Haleth swallowed back the rage as Rochma met her eyes and sneered.

"So you intended to harbor my kin from me, girl?" He spit, "This is a family matter and nothing to do with you."

"Rochma," Haleth took a step, breathing deeply and meeting his glare without trepidation, "I suggest you leave my sister-in-law in peace."

"Sister-in- law?" Rochma scoffed, turning to his supporters with a chuckle, "We all know that to be a bold faced lie. This girl never married your brother and here she stands, a victim of your brother's shame."

"So you would kill her?"

"It is the only thing that will erase her sin."

"Rochma," Haleth took another breath as she came boot to boot with him, ignoring the keen blade of the knife in his hand, "Again, I say you have no word in this. Shela was married in secret to my brother before the battle."

"And you expect us to believe such a falsehood?"

Hagar stepped forward, "It is true, Rochma. I oversaw the ceremony myself."

"You threaten the life of my kin." Haleth spoke in a low, harsh whisper, "You threaten the life of my brother's unborn heir. Rochma, you have overstepped your bounds before our people."

"What gives you the right to speak, woman?" He replied, licking his lips predatorily, "Who has made you Chieftain of our people?"

"The people have chosen me." She replied with confidence.

Rochma laughed cruelly, "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. You were there."

"I believe you merely feel entitled as the whore of an Elf princeling." Rochma accused sharply, "What did you give him for his support, child?"

Before Haleth could reply, the heavily cloaked and imposing figure of Caranthir suddenly appeared in the center of the circle. A deep laughter emanated from beneath his hood as he removed it from his head.

"My little warrior," He chided as though he spoke to a child, "How very wrong you are."

Rochma's face blanched. His hand that held the knife fell to his side. Haleth fell back as Caranthir stepped forward, eyeing Rochma with a bemused smirk.

"Your people have spoken their peace, am I correct?"

Rochma tentatively nodded, his eyes cutting back to Haleth for a moment.

"Then what are you fighting for?" Caranthir folded his large hands before him, "Be off if you are unhappy. Make your own people. These lands are broad and broader still east of the mountains. If you call yourself a man, show a little courage."

He clapped a hand on Rochma's shoulder, raking his form with a disdainful glare before turning away.

"As it were, the Lady Haleth had agreed to come dwell in my lands to the north in friendship with the Eldar and under our protection. There your petty claims, boy, will hold no ground."

Haleth felt her face flush with heat as the elf lord nodded to her before disappearing into the night. She did not even notice the stares of shock and reprimand from her proud people at the Elf's announcement. Clenching her hands into fists, she closed her eyes for a moment. Though Caranthir meant well, such an assumption and arrogant statement did more harm than good. Her people would never tolerate to dwell under the rule of any other but their own. Nor would she.


	6. Out of Character

Caranthir stood by his men as they prepared to return to his halls. He crossed his arms over his black, leather tunic, squinting in the bright morning light. They were nearly ready to depart.

"My lord."

Caranthir turned to see the young leader of the tribe of men. Haleth stood with her arms stiffly at her sides. Though she was of small stature like the rest of her people, there was a spark in the girl that made her noticeable. She lifted her pert chin in greeting. Caranthir arched an eyebrow and came to stand over her. Haleth had pulled her wild, dark hair back in a braid, exposing her sharp cheekbones and neck. However, her expression was almost laughable in its barely retained fury. He pondered carelessly what could be bothering her now.

"My lady," He grinned, his tone dry, "For what reason do you grace me with your presence this morning."

"I must speak with you." She replied.

He noticed her hands clenched firmly behind her back. He nodded and glanced over to see that his tent had yet been dissembled.

"Of course, let's adjourn from this chaotic scene though. My men are far from quiet this morning."

She followed him silently to his field tent. Once inside the quiet of the grand space, Caranthir meandered over a low table and poured himself some wine. He lifted the canter towards her in a silent offering but she shook her head. Her face was flushed and lips pursed. It amused him to her such a state. He waited for her to unburden herself as he perched on the edge of the table. He lifted a brow to her as he took a draw of wine.

"What were you thinking?" She hissed, her arms stiff at her sides, "What you said last night, that was irresponsible."

"Which part?" He toyed, "The part where I asked if you dwelt with the livestock or where I defended your honor from that ingrate?"

"The part," Her voice rose in volume, "Where you said I had decided to live with your people in the north."

"What of it?"

"I never agreed to such a thing and I wouldn't have if you had possessed the courtesy to ask me first!"

"Courtesy!" Caranthir scoffed, feeling his blood start to run hot despite himself. It irked him more that she angered him so easily than what she said, "I have been nothing but courteous towards you since our meeting, my lady."

"Oh of course!" Haleth let out a mirthless laugh, "Do you know that your speech has set my people more against me than before! You did more harm than good, my lord."

Caranthir set the cup down hard on the table, a little wine spilling over the side of the goblet. He ran a hand over his face roughly.

"What could possibly have been wrong with what I said last night?" He demanded, "You need protection and I am willing to offer it to you."

"But you didn't offer, you merely made the choice for me!" Haleth paced without looking at him, "You know nothing of our people. We need our freedom and independence like air. We are not like men of other houses who seek after your ways. We want no part of it."

"Do you think you are too good for my generosity, child?" Caranthir sneered, approaching her.

"No, Caranthir." Her tone became calmer, "You do not understand. We are all grateful but we choose to remain on our own for a reason. It is not insult to you or the Eldar."

"You are a prideful lot." He spit, "What reason have you for such insolence?"

She met his gaze firmly, "What reason have you, my lord?"

Caranthir found himself without words. Images of burning ships and blood, kin slaying kin long before the girl or her sires were even conceived reeled through his mind. It was as though she had pierced right through to the deepest heart of his insecurities.

Haleth wet her lips and looked down at her feet, "I apologize, my Lord. I had no right to speak thusly. I should not have explained it to you this way, it was wrong. I thank you for your offer of friendship, but my people and I will go our own way."

Haleth turned to leave. Caranthir reached out and stopped her, gripping her shoulder. She suddenly looked small and childlike to him. The impulse to cradle her like the orphan she was ran through his brain. It was an emotion he had never experienced in his life. He could feel his expression tempering.

"Haleth," He began, his gruff voice taking on a gentler tone, "I did not mean to insult you with my offer. I have valued our time together over the past few days. You are quickly becoming a fine leader for your people. I'm sure your father would have been proud if he still lived."

The impulsive admission surprised him almost as much as it did Haleth. Her eyes widened. However, to his shock, the edges began to soften with unshed tears. She pulled away roughly, walking towards a corner of the tent and crossing her arms over her breast.

Caranthir stood at a loss in the middle of the tent, his arm still outstretched. Haleth slouched, her back towards him. At the sound of her heavy breathing, he could tell she was trying to contain her emotions. He wondered absently if the girl had yet to mourn her family. He tried to remember the last time someone had wept before him.

He stepped cagily towards her. Reaching out, he tentatively touched her trembling shoulder with his fingertips. Without warning, she turned, her face bright red and glistening. She threw herself into his chest and wept. Caranthir was frozen. Awkwardly, he carefully wrapped his outstretched arms around her shaking form. He had never been in such a situation before, not since his youth in Valinor when his twin brothers were children. How she reminded him of Ambarussa right then when something had truly hurt them.

It dawned him that the strong, young leader of the Haladin was still very much a child, forced to grow up very quickly. How was it that he found himself in such a situation? Surely there were others of his kin who would be better equipped with comforting a weeping daughter of men. Even his other brothers would have known what to say. Makalaurë would certainly have excelled at such a field.

He unwound her from his torso, holding her by the shoulders. He leant forward so that he could catch her reddened eyes. She tried to cover her face with her hands, clearly from embarrassment. He took them in his firmly.

"Haleth, you are doing…well." He began clumsily trying to comfort her, "Better than most. Your grandsires will someday speak of this time in your life, your children praise you for your courage. Take your people where you will, you will always have my friendship, I swear it, _elvellon_."

"Elf friend?" Haleth's sniffling ceased momentarily as she looked up at him with wide eyes, "I am your friend?"

"If you will have me, child." He chuckled, lifting a hand and brushing the loose curls from her face.

He rested his palm against the side of her face, rubbing away an errant tear with his thumb. She took a deep breath, gripping his wrist. Absently, he wondered from where his behavior toward her came. It was so out of character. If his brothers saw him now, comforting a distraught Edain girl, certainly they would think him bewitched. Haleth gave him a shaky smile. The sight stirred the same, strange feeling of paternal affection within him.

They parted when they heard someone cough at the door. Caranthir removed his hands from the girl at seeing her unofficial guardian, the man named Hagar, standing stiffly at the door. His expression was unreadable as his dark gaze flitted between them. Haleth turned towards him, her smile remaining on her face. Hagar managed a faint grin, his eyes cutting back to Caranthir harshly.

"My Lady," Hagar began, "I am sorry to interrupt but the people wish to speak with you."

"I assume it is concerning the announcement that we are to head north with the Eldar." Haleth replied, the original strength returning to her voice as though she had never lost control, "Do not fear, Hagar. There has been a change of plans. We will not go north but move towards the forests to the west. That is what I came here to speak with Lord Caranthir of."

Hagar nodded tentatively, "That is good to hear."

"My lord, you will not leave without a farewell, I trust?" Haleth turned to Caranthir, her firm expression wholly different from how it was just moments earlier.

Caranthir nodded silently, trying to ignore Hagar's strange gaze, "We set out this afternoon."

Haleth met his eyes pointedly, "Thank you for all you have done for our people. Your kindness will never be forgotten."

"My lady, the people." Hagar insisted.

With a last glance, Haleth and her escort left his presence. Caranthir slumped over. He strode towards his cup on the table and took it down in a single gulp. These Edain would be the death of him if he remained with them much longer.


	7. Lost Years

"My lord," Hagar approached Caranthir as he strode towards the stockade, "Might I have a word?"

The Noldorin Lord paused, gritting his teeth slightly. He recalled the look the man had given him when he had interrupted his conversation with Haleth earlier than morning. Giving him a patient nod, Caranthir folded his gloved hands behind his back.

"Yes, of course," He replied patiently.

The man held himself with respect, his face bowed slightly to the ground.

"I mean no disrespect in what I am going to say," He began tentatively not meeting Caranthir's steady glare, "Heaven knows where we would be if it hadn't been for you-"

"Dead." Caranthir interrupted, stiffening slightly, "You'd be dead."

Hagar nodded, "But I feel I must speak to you concerning Haleth. She is young and has been handling the authority suddenly thrust upon her well. I am sure she values your wisdom."

"Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?" Caranthir snapped, unable to keep from feeling patronized by the old warrior's tone.

Hagar met his gaze pointedly, "Only that she is young, my lord. Very young."

Caranthir scoffed, trying to keep his blood from running hot at Hagar's assumption of his motives.

"Is that all you wish to discuss with me, Sir Hagar?" Caranthir rounded him casually, "The obvious?"

"I believe you understand my meaning, my Lord."

Caranthir chuckled darkly, "I must go bid farewell to the lady, sir. Are you quite done?"

"Quite." Hagar met his gaze once more.

With a snort of disgust, Caranthir marched away towards the stockade. What irked him most was the honesty in the man's gaze. He genuinely saw Caranthir as a threat to Haleth. But what kind of threat that was remained mystery to the Noldo. Perhaps he thought his influence on her would lead their people away from their chosen path. Caranthir told himself he couldn't care less what the people of Haleth did. If they did not want to accept a fiefdom from him, than it made no difference to him. He couldn't possibly believe Caranthir had designs on the girl herself. The very idea was revolting. Only one of the Edain could conjure up such a twisted notion.

Haleth turned towards him as he entered her tent.

"Shela," She turned towards her kinswoman and nodded.

The fair haired girl stood softly and without looking towards him, left their presence.

"She does not have the look of your people." Caranthir commented off handedly in an attempt to forget his recent conversation.

Haleth nodded quietly, her eyes trailing after Shela. She stood from where she had been stacking kindling by the firepit.

"Shela's mother was not of our people, like Rochma's." Haleth replied, "However, my brother was as dark as I am. Their child will most likely take after him."

Caranthir approached her but not too close, Hagar's words echoing in his mind. Haleth looked up at him expectantly.

"My lord," She began directly without pretense, "I wish to apologize for my manner this morning. I had no intention of reacting so…emotionally-"

Caranthir cut her off, holding up a hand swiftly, "It is already forgotten. Your people are appeased by your new course of action."

"Yes, for the most part." Haleth shrugged.

"Still trouble with the usurpers?"

Haleth met his eyes with a smirk, "They say the paths we would take are suicidal. Some wish to return to the mountains to the east."

"So let them go."

"They are," Haleth glanced out at the gathered horses packed for a long road, "Rochma will lead a small band away."

"This I am glad to hear." Caranthir lifted an eyebrow in the direction of the traveling party with a look of boredom, "They would tire you."

"And will you return to your halls?"

Caranthir turned to find Haleth's gaze steady on his face. Her attention made him wary. He shifted his weight, pacing slightly towards the fireside.

"Yes," He answered evenly, feeling her eyes but not meeting them, "We have been gone too long as is."

"What is it like…where you live?"

"My halls are on the shore of a deep lake that reflects the sky perfectly." Caranthir found himself saying, his heart suddenly longing for home.

"I should like someday…" Haleth began, her voice trailing off, "I hope this is not our last meeting, my lord-"

"Your life spans are so brief," Caranthir interrupted, turning back towards the tent entrance, "The years tend to be lost to me. It is most likely we will not meet again."

He turned towards her. Haleth looked slightly crestfallen by his abrupt response but brought herself to her full height just the same. Her youthful vulnerability, a side that he had only seen a glimpse of that morning, was suddenly gone. Though he was glad to see her steeling herself, he couldn't ignore the fleeting pang of grief over its loss. She studied him icily.

"Then may your gods go with you, my lord." She gave him a bow.

As she rose, Caranthir couldn't find any more words. With a stilted nod, he left her to the dying fire.

* * *

"They are leaving!" Shela came into the tent breathlessly, "The company of elves, you should come see!"

Haleth looked up from where she crouched by the fire, her arms cross over her chest. Stirred from her thoughts, she looked up at Shela numbly.

"Haleth, are you alright?" She asked gently, her face twisting with concern.

Brushing away her contemplations, Haleth stood strongly, "Of course, just weary I guess."

"Come, they are quite a sight."

Shela held out a small white hand to her sister-in-law. Haleth took it with an attempted smile. The girls rushed from the tent, following the scant crowd leaving the stockade to witness the departure of the grand horde.

Shela and Haleth rounded the crest of the battle scarred hill. The valley below where the elvish encampment had been was left as though no one had been there at all. Shielding her eyes from the brilliant twilight, Haleth gasped as she watched the company move with utter precision, their dark banners catching the blood red light of the late winter sun. Their armor burned cold like icy river water as they rode tall and proud on their fine steeds. Haleth briefly thought she saw one of the riders paused, turning his horse back towards where they watched. However, the moment passed and the elves were gone as swiftly as they had come.

* * *

_**Several months later**_

"Dear sister," Shela grasped Haleth's hand, her gaunt face turning grey. A bead of sweat slipped from her hairline, "Tell me what you dream."

"What I dream?" Haleth was choked by a sob as she dabbed Shela's forehead with a kerchief, "What could you mean?"

"I mean what you see…for our people." Shela's eyes grew large as a tear escaped and slide across the bridge of her nose, "I wish I could be here to watch you shine. So bright. Next to my son."

"Don't speak so, you silly girl." Haleth wiped her nose with her sleeve, "You'll be right there with us, our own little family, my dearest friend."

"Tell me what you dream."

Thoughts tumbled through her head. Haleth wanted to come up with an answer to appease her friend, her dead brother's bride. Shela gave a shaky breath. Haleth could feel her skin growing colder.

"I dream…I dream of tree tops burning red and gold with autumn." Haleth managed to say, her throat throbbing, "I dream of children laughing beneath them, old women weaving and young men hunting in the shadowed eaves before dawn. I dream of a home that sings in our blood. I dream of your son as chieftain, his children afterwards leading our people in justice and peace."

"It's all so lovely," Shela's eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolling back towards the ceiling of the tent, firelight dancing off the canvas, "How I long to see these things."

"You will," Haleth begged for lies from her dying sister, "Just you see."

"You dream of someone too, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

Shela opened her eyes once more, resting their placid blue depths on Haleth, "I've heard you breathe his name in your sleep. You can't lie to me."

"I don't know what you mean." Haleth found herself replying, feeling her heart close hard to the emotion, "Shela-"

"You will see him again." Shela lifted her hand wearily, letting the back of her fingers trail down Haleth's jaw, "Trust me in this. The Noldo will not forget your friendship so easily."

Haleth bit her lip, unable to deny the truth coming from the fading girl's mouth.

"I know you will see to my child, I have no doubt." Shela closed her eyes, "I have never doubted you, my chief."

* * *

_**Eight years later**_

The snow had fallen deeply that day, gusting in thick drifts into the encampment of men. Though it had been a hard season, the people of the Haladin were hardy. They had built their homes from the earth, creating warm shelters of peat and clay that blended into the great green sea of Estolad. Their chieftain's home sat at the head of the settlement, only slightly larger than the others.

By the yellowed warmth of a tallow candle, Haleth hummed a song that her father had sung at her own bedside. The child's eyes drifted shut. Haleth smoothed back the shock of dark hair against his fair forehead. She smiled softly, thinking of how blue Haldan's eyes were when they opened. As blue as his mother's had once been. The child had also been blessed with her brother's dimples. Her nephew was her joy. Blowing out the candle, the room still scented with the heady aroma of the smoky animal fat, Haleth carefully shut the cloth partition to their common room.

"The boy asleep?"

"Yes, finally." Haleth replied approaching the fireside.

"You should let the boy play with his friends outside," Hagar lifted a brow at her, puffing on his pipe.

"Not in this weather." Haleth stated firmly, "He does not have the constitution for it. You know this."

"Let go of your fear, chief," Hagar stood, laying a paternal hand on her shoulder, "And let the child have some freedom."

Haleth wrapped her arms around her middle, not meeting her mentor's gaze, "I will consider it."

"Please do." Hagar wrapped his cloak around his broad shoulders, "It will help him go down easier at night at least."

"That would be a welcomed relief."

Haleth followed Hagar out into the snowy night.

"You did not answer my question from earlier." Hagar turned to her, snowflakes dusting his silvery crown, "Haleth?"

Haleth shifted her weight, the snow groaning beneath her feet, "I need to think more on it. It doesn't need to be decided finally till springtime."

"It'll be here sooner than you think."

"I know." Haleth gave him a genuine smile, "Time tends to go by faster these days."

_The years tend to be lost to me._ The words echoed through the halls of her memory like a forgotten ballad.

With a final nod, Hagar turned toward his own home on the edge of the village. Haleth stood alone in the snowy night. She turned her face skyward; the snow burning her skin where the flakes landed and melted instantly on her cheeks.

She had not thought of him in a while. There was a time in her life when the elf lord's presence in her heart was as overwhelming as sunlight reflecting against snow. Though her duties as the leader of her people were always superseding, there was a part of her heart that remained private. That was where she had buried the memories of their brief yet utterly life altering meeting. Though she had only been a girl of sixteen, Caranthir had left an impression on her that she could never fully understand.

Feeling the cold start to numb her fingers and toes, she turned once again towards the warmth of her small home.

Removing her heavy, woolen overdress, she wrapped a coarse shawl over the shoulders of her linen shift. Sitting by the fire, she pulled out her own pipe. It had been her father's when he lived. Before long, the warm smell of the dried weed leaves lulled her to a light doze in her high backed wooden chair.

There came a strong knocking at the door that disturbed her dreams of childhood. The visions of her father, Haldar and Shela's calm faces faded before her sleeping eyes. Haleth stumbled to her feet, realizing her fire had died down considerably. After struggling to relight the nearby candle, she stumbled towards the door.

She blinked in the faint light as she opened it to the harsh wind, her eyes barely registering what she saw. She held the candle up high.

"Well, I believe it is you."

Haleth's mouth dropped slightly as she opened the rough wooden door wider, "You?"

Caranthir's gloved hand reached out and grasped her chin, tipping it back, "Yes, it is you."


End file.
